From Twenty to Thirty
by jemmasimmmons
Summary: In which Skye tries not to contemplate things she never wanted to before, Coulson regrets a decision and Leopold Fitz panics about twenty becoming thirty. Rated K, no language issues.


_Hi everyone! I've started writing for another fandom! *Cue groans from those of you who follow me for other shows/books* This time, it's Marvel's Agents of Shield and Fitzsimmons in particular because they have stolen my heart in a way I was not aware was even possible and I am so in love and in so much pain it is unreal. I watched the show over the summer and wrote my first fic a few weeks ago as a request from a friend for her birthday and just realised I never posted it here. It's set in a near future, everyone-is-happy AU, and is incredibly fluffy because its what everyone needs for this pairing. Hope you enjoy it!_

_Love, Isabelle xx_

* * *

'Twins?' Skye's mouth gaped open in horror. 'Simmons, that's impossible!'  
Jemma Simmons, reclining back on a sofa in the Playground mess room with a cup of steaming tea in her hand, frowned at her friend.  
'Well, not really, Skye. 3.3% of pregnancies in the US _alone_ result in twins. Admittedly, the probablility of having monozygotic twins is far less statistically than having dizygotic, but that does make sense biologically as it's far more likely for two sperm to fertilise two eggs than having a single egg split…'  
'Okay, stop.' Skye pressed her hands over her ears as she flopped down onto the sofa next to her. 'I don't really want to have to contemplate the science of procreation this late in the afternoon. Especially not you and Fitz procreating. Actually, I don't want to contemplate that at any time of day. I stand corrected. Twins not impossible.'  
Jemma smirked at being proven right in spite of herself, and took a sip of her tea to steady the fluttering butterflies of excitement that were escaping around her stomach. _Urgh_. She made a face as a wave of nausea swept over her and pulled the cup away from her lips. She'd forgotten. She hadn't been able to drink tea in weeks.  
'But you're sure?' Skye was saying. 'Like, absolutely sure?'  
'Positive,' Jemma replied, setting her cup down on the table in front of them. 'I mean, I was fairly certain even before we went to the obstetrician but Fitz insisted, said he wanted to get a 'professional' opinion.' She rolled her eyes at the memory of the frantic conversation the night before, which had resulted in him driving them seventy miles to the nearest specialist clinic that morning just to confirm what she already had known. 'Honestly, it's as if he doesn't trust me!'  
'Imagine that,' Skye said dryly. 'Wanting to get a professional opinion on a medical matter.'  
'I _am_ a medical professional!'  
'No, you're not, we just always acted like you were and now you've started believing it yourself.'  
Jemma considered this claim for a moment and then sank back into her seat again. Skye had a point.  
'So, how did you know?' Skye asked. 'I mean, what made you so sure it was twins?'  
Jemma shrugged. 'I was throwing up more than you'd expect with a regular pregnancy and I was always tired._Always_.' Skye nodded; Jemma knew that that had been one symptom the entire team had noticed over the past few weeks, unfortunately. She had found herself repeatedly nodding off in the most inappropriate of places: in the lab, at the dinner table, during briefing. And even worse than that, when she wasn't dozing, she had a tendency to be a little snappy (mostly because she wasn't dozing and could be).  
'And, obviously, I noticed I was…' She gestured awkwardly to the bump of her stomach that was sticking out over her jeans. '…Expanding, faster than should be expected.'  
Skye nodded, knowingly. 'I had noticed that as well.'  
Jemma gasped in mock offence and leaned over and gave her a gentle shove. 'Rude!'  
Skye snorted with laughter and then righted herself. 'So, this obstat-'  
'Obstetrician.'  
'Yeah, that guy, he's just confirmed it for you? This morning?'  
Jemma nodded, tucking her feet up under a cushion. 'Yeah, he asked some questions, did a scan-'  
'Wait, wait.' Skye held out her hand in a 'time-out' sign. 'He did a scan? Do you have a picture?' When Jemma nodded, Skye's dark eyes lit up in delight. 'Can I _see_?'  
With a shy smile, Jemma reached into her back pocket of her jeans and carefully took out the glossy piece of paper that the obstetrician had handed her as they had been leaving and gave it to Skye.  
Her friend held it gingerly, the edges of her fingertips just holding the corners, as if the paper might shatter if she held it too hard. Jemma watched anxiously as Skye's eyes scanned the image in disbelief, then slowly erupted into a smile. 'Wow.'  
'Yeah,' Jemma murmured, 'Wow.'  
'Do you know if they're boys or girls yet?' Skye asked, tracing her finger lightly over the scan image.  
'No, it's still too early,' Jemma sighed. 'In a few weeks, maybe…'  
Skye shook her head. 'This is unreal.'  
'Well…'  
'I mean unreal in the figurative sense, Simmons, I am well aware this is real.'  
'Oh.'  
Skye handed her the picture back, still smiling. 'I just…it's just so weird, you know? I can't believe it; my two best friends, having a baby…well, two babies.'  
Jemma nodded, resting her chin in her hand. 'There are times when I can't quite believe it's happening either.'  
Skye grinned and schoched herself along the sofa so she was sitting right next to her friend. 'How's Fitz taking it?' she asked.  
Jemma hesitated, the fluttering feeling returning to her gut, but this time they were not excited, shining butterflies, but rather anxious moths with dark wings. Her smile wavered, and her sudden change of mood didn't go unnoticed. Skye leaned forward, her forehead creased in concern.  
'Jem?'  
Quickly, Jemma sucked in a breath and recovered herself. She turned to Skye and flashed her a beaming smile. 'He's great,' she lied. 'Couldn't be happier.'

* * *

'Twins.'  
'Yes, Ward.'  
_'Twins.'_  
'Yes, that's what I said, isn't it?'  
'That's two babies, Fitz.'  
'Yes, thank you, Ward, I am well aware what the definition of twins is.'  
Leo Fitz ran his fingers through his hair as he gazed around the lab, watching the reactions of the group of men he was with to the news he had just given them.  
Ward was staring at him in shock, his bottle of beer hovering in mid-air, having been halfway up to his mouth before Fitz had dropped his bombshell. Trip on the other hand looked utterly delighted; a wide grin spreading from ear to ear, probably imagining all the fun they would be able to have with, not one, but two babies at the base. Mack, leaning up against the bench behind them was smiling too, his arms crossed over his chest. Hunter, who had gotten up to grab another round of beers, came up behind Fitz and clapped him on the back.  
'I think I speak for us all when I say 'congratulations', mate,' he said, twisting the cap off a bottle and handing it to Fitz. 'And welcome to the end of your life.'  
'Well, now…I don't…I don't…'  
'Want to see it that way?' Mack put in.  
'Yeah, that's the one.' Fitz nodded to his friend and took a swig of beer, wincing at how cold it was.  
'How did Coulson take it?' Ward asked, his own bottle falling back into his lap, his expression still slightly shell-shocked.  
Fitz shrugged. 'Better than he took the original announcement.' When he and Jemma had first broken the news to the team that they were going to have a baby, their director had put his head in his hands and left it there for at least a couple of hours ('To be honest though,' Skye had pointed out. 'What was he imagining would happen when he let the two of you share a room?'). 'I mean, he wasn't exactly…uh, _thrilled_, but, uh, Jemma asked him if he would be a godfather and he perked right up.'  
'You do realise that by letting him be their godfather your kids are going to get Captain America merchandise for every single Christmas for the rest of their life?' Ward asked, a ghost of his usual smile flickering across his face.  
'Well, we were hoping if May's godmother then she might be able to keep a lid on some of it.'  
'Good luck to her,' Hunter muttered into his beer.  
'So…is Simmons okay?' Trip asked, his easy grin fading into an expression of concern, one Fitz tried not to let bother him. He knew Trip had a soft spot for Jemma, but he had learnt long ago that it wasn't something he needed to worry about. Jemma had chosen him, not Trip.  
He nodded and gave Trip a reassuring smile. 'Yeah, yeah, she's good. The, ah, obstetrician couldn't see any complications or problems so far but I've asked Coulson to get an ultrasound scanner for the med centre because driving all that way every couple of weeks for a check up seems a little ridiculous.'  
'What about you?' Mack broke in.  
Fitz's smile wavered. 'Sorry?'  
'What about you?' Mack repeated. 'Are you okay?'  
Fitz's fingers rubbed the label of the bottle nervously. His friends exchanged worried glances and he knew he needed to make a reply.  
'I'm great,' he lied. 'Couldn't be happier.'

* * *

The next few weeks passed in a kind of dream. The ultrasound machine arrived and stood in pride of place in the med centre, shiny, new and ready to be used. Coulson started asking Simmons to go on less and less missions away from the base, until he stopped asking her completely. She was also doing doing less lab work, ever since Skye looked up chemicals that could be harmful to pregnant women online and had basically found a list of the contents of their entire store cupboard.  
Fitz, on the other hand, was doing more work than he had for months. He picked up the lab work that Simmons had been expressively forbidden to do by Skye ('Exposure to chemicals at this point could result in mutation, Simmons!' 'Skye, I really don't think…' 'Result. In. Mutation.') and went on most of the field missions that required a scientific expert on his own. He didn't mind, not really, especially if going alone meant that Jemma was kept safe at the Playground, under the watchful eye of whoever had stayed behind with her. Besides, being away from her, much as it agitated him, allowed his brain to stray and he didn't have to worry about anything other than the task at hand, taking his mind off…well, everything else.  
He wasn't meaning to avoid her. It just turned out that way.

* * *

It was later than usual when Fitz finally pushed open the door to his and Jemma's shared bedroom one night, about a month and a half after their visit to the obstetrician. Slowly, he eased the door back on its hinges and breathed a sigh of relief; she was lying under the covers on her side, sleeping. With a bit less caution, he crept into the room and closed the door behind him.  
Coulson had given them permission to share a bedroom at the base about six months before, after many months of Jemma's gentle coaxing and dropping hints wherever possible.  
'You might as well just let them,' May had reasoned, eventually, with a sigh of exasperation. 'They'll only sneak down the corridor into each other's rooms every night anyway, it will save a lot of time.'  
They had moved into a snug bunk with a double bed and adjoining bathroom the next day and something had felt distinctly right to Fitz about getting up in the morning and seeing Jemma's toothbrush next to his when he stumbled into the bathroom; it had felt even more right when she had snuck up behind him and gone on her tip-toes to rest her head on his shoulder.  
Carefully, Fitz got into his pyjamas and crawled onto his side of the bed. Usually, he took the right side and Jemma took the left; she gravitated towards warmth during the night so often ended up rolling into his back and resting there, her face pressed against his shoulder and her arm hugging his waist. Recently, however, (to be more specific, since she'd been pregnant) they had swapped places. Now, Fitz slept with her tucked into him and his chin resting on top of her head, their hands intertwined in front of her stomach. He wasn't entirely sure how or why this change had come about, but Fitz was glad it had. For one thing, he was pretty sure it was far more comfortable for Jemma, not being pressed into his back, but for another, it made him feel more secure as well. He felt more in control when he was holding her, like he could protect her better. It was probably the only thing he was able to do right with her these days.  
He had just snaked his arm around her waist and his fingers through hers when he felt her give a small squeeze to his hand.  
'Where have you been?' she said in a low murmur.  
Fitz paused for half a heart beat, mentally cursing himself. 'The lab. I had something I needed to finish.'  
'It's nearly two, Fitz.'  
'I know. I lost track of time, I'm sorry.' He leant down to brush a kiss on her temple in apology. 'You should be asleep, anyway,' he said, trying to change the subject.  
'I wanted to show you something.' She wriggled out of his arms and propped herself up on one elbow. 'Skye and Bobbi and I were bored while you were all out this afternoon and the ultrasound machine was right there and…' She was half reaching out of the bed by this point, to a piece of paper lying on her bedside table, and a little too far for Fitz to be comfortable.  
'Jemma, for God's sake, let me get it,' he muttered irritably, reaching over her to pluck the picture off the table. 'What-' His question died away in his throat as he stared at the paper in his hand.  
'We did another scan,' Jemma said, her voice quivering slightly from excitement. 'Skye looked up how to do it online and Bobbi held the transducer, we did it all properly…'  
'What…' Fitz's mouth was dry and his hand was shaking as he gestured to the two small, hazy shapes curved around each other on the image. 'What…?'  
'One of each.' Jemma answered the question he hadn't been able to ask with a whisper. 'One boy, one girl. Skye called them a 'mini Fitzsimmons'.'  
He should have laughed. He tried to, but it only ended in a sort of strangled sob.  
Instantly, she rounded on him. 'What is it?'  
'Nothing, nothing.' He tried to smile at her reassuringly but Jemma wasn't fooled.  
'Don't you lie to me,' she said, fiercely. 'What's wrong?'  
'Jemma, honestly, I-'  
'No! You've been acting strange for weeks now, you're working all hours, taking every mission Coulson can throw at you, I barely see you…' Her voice trailed off, and a sudden fearful look appeared in her eyes. 'You've not…you've not changed your mind, have you? About…about us…?'  
'What!?' Horror rolled over Fitz like a wave crashing on a beach and, instinctively, he reached out for her hand, before catching himself. 'Jemma, no, that's ridiculous, I couldn't-'  
'Then what is it?' He shook his head and she found his hand again and gripped it hard. 'I know you, Fitz, and something's wrong. Please, tell me.'  
Fitz looked up and met her eyes, wide and pleading. It was always hard, so, so hard, to look at her and not instantly give in, give up, surrender everything. She had always had that effect on him, the wide-eyed puppy dog look that always ended up in them getting the take-away she wanted, the movie she wanted to watch and somehow made him feel like it had been his idea in the first place. Inside his chest, his heart ached.  
'It's hard to explain.'  
'Try.' From anyone else, he might have found that condescending, but from her, it wasn't. It was a plea and let him know she was listening.  
'It's just…' He hesitated, as his mind ticked over, trying to choose the right words to put on his tongue. 'I'd just gotten around to the idea that, uh, there was going to be two people I needed to take care of. Two, two heads, four arms, twenty fingers.' He counted them on his fingers, trying to stop his voice from shaking. 'I could handle that. I could…I thought I could…'  
Jemma was watching him, blinking back tears. She was listening though, she was listening to him, and that was all Fitz needed to take a deep breath and keep going.  
'But now that twenty is a thirty and, God, that's…that's…That's a lot more fingers.' He wasn't making sense, he could hear it. 'What if I can't handle that? What if I can't look after you all? If something…If something happened, I couldn't…' His voice failed him, and he swallowed, hard. 'I couldn't live with myself.'  
Jemma was silent for a moment, her mouth hovering, half open, taking in what he had just told her. Then she glanced up at him, her eyebrows furrowed together. 'Is that really how you see it?'  
Fitz gave a half-hearted shrug. 'How could I not?'  
'Because it's not how it's going to be!' Jemma cried, sitting up properly in the bed. 'It's not going to just be you looking after us; that's not how family works, Fitz!'  
'Well how is it supposed to work then?' he muttered into his chest, feeling like a sulky child.  
'I'll tell you.' She leant into him, so her head was resting in the crook of his shoulder and the hard part of her forehead pressed against his jawline. 'I will look after you…and,' she added quickly, putting up a finger to his lips to stop his protests. 'You will look after me. Like always. But we will both look after them. Our babies.' She fixed him with a hard stare, daring him to contradict her. 'Your thirty…' She shook her head. 'It's my thirty too. We're doing this together, like we always do. Okay?'  
Fitz found himself nodding, a lump in his throat and a smile on his lips. 'Okay,' he croaked quietly.  
Jemma smiled and reached up to kissed him. Fitz bent into it with relief, allowing his mouth to open up to her and taste her lips and the smile she was giving just for him. Jemma felt like she always did, soft and warm but strong as well, strong enough to hold him up but vulnerable enough to let him know she needed him too. They fitted together, Fitz thought, as his thumb stroked her cheek. Each other's missing pieces. God, why had he been so worried? He should have known, known she wouldn't let him do anything alone, known that whatever they did, they would do it together.  
'Now, um,' Jemma pulled back awkwardly and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. 'It is actually kind of late so, do you, um, mind if we…?'  
'Oh.' Fitz grinned sheepishly. 'Oh, no. Sorry.'  
She let him help her ease back down onto the mattress and they folded themselves into each other again, even tighter than they had been before. Fitz kissed the back of her head, breathing in the scent of her apple shampoo.  
'Night, Jem.'  
'Goodnight, Fitz.'  
Very gently, he patted the bump of her stomach. 'Night, mini Fitzsimmons.'  
'We are _not_ letting Skye call them that.'


End file.
